


And You Decided Purple just Wasn’t for You

by LuchaDoRa (italic_ink)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Asshole Gavin Reed, Awkward Sexual Situations, Connor Deserves Happiness, Dorks in Love, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description of Corpses, Identity Issues, M/M, Murder Mystery, Plot Twists, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Purple Blood, Self-Acceptance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italic_ink/pseuds/LuchaDoRa
Summary: A year since the peaceful revolution. Androids are free. That doesn’t stop Connor from doing what he loves: solving crime both human and android alike, with his trustysidekickpartner Hank.But then a string of strange murders and the emergence of purple blood leave them stumped. Connor questions for the first time since he woke up what being a deviant really means.





	1. A Beginning, Middle and Middle

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely idea came from a prompt by ::simon:: that you can find righhhhhttt here —> https://www.google.co.uk/amp/s/aminoapps.com/c/detroitbecomhumanofficial/amp/item/dbh-rp-fic-prompts/JRmY_zafMIrJdgNmVN8gqJG62JzBp8X086
> 
> “Blue blood. The most obvious sign to point out the difference between the humans and the androids. It has been a year after everything has happened. So, purple blood rose to the surface and Connor and Hank went to investigate what exactly has happened and where the purple blood belonged to.”
> 
>    
> Title from Halsey’s ‘Colours’.

 

Wes could feel a small bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. It trickled under his shirt and down his back.

“What is this doing here? I thought you were off it!” Wes looked at the mostly empty plastic seal bag that was being held in front of him.

He held out his hands. “I am, Cass-”

“Then why is this in the house?!” She looked at him with venom. “How long have you been on it again?”

“I swear to you, I’ve been clean for months since the incident. it was just once, a couple weeks ago.” He began stressfully pacing. “And I haven’t done it again since then I swear, I felt so fucking shit afterwards believe me.”

She guffawed. “Believe you! I was supposed to believe that you were clean all this time!” She welled up. “Do you think Mom would be proud of you right now?” 

His anger spiked. “Don’t fucking bring her into this!”

“I’m just tired of it, Wes! I’m in half a mind to fucking turn you in myself. You know what this stuff does to you! Do you think I want to watch it happen again?”

“Cassie, I’m doing my best here-“

“Well, it’s obviously not enough!” Cassie threw the packet onto the floor to emphasise her point.

“You know what, I’m done with this shit. I don’t need to hear it from you.” Wes walked to the front door and slammed it on the way out. He was just so angry.

Why didn’t she get it? He was trying. He’d been off it for months now. So he had a little slip up- he was fucking human for gods sake. It’s not like he wanted to do it; it was addictive and he was _trying_.

He huffed out a breath of clean air. And his breath was clean too; the incident was a couple weeks back and he hadn’t touched it again since then. But she didn’t understand. If only she hadn’t found the packet, then maybe he wouldn’t be back here again. It just felt like everything was repeating itself again and again.

The air was warm, or maybe that was the angry blood pumping through him. He hated fighting with Cassie; their parents wouldn’t be proud. “This is all such bullshit!” He hissed to himself, walking along the pavement, not a care about where he was going. It was summer now, and he didn’t even think about a jacket. But he shivered as a sudden chill ran through his back.

“Hey mister, can you help me?”

Wes jumped out of his skin. A young woman jumped in front of him. She put her hands out towards him and he took a couple of steps back.

“I think I’m being followed. Can you walk me around the corner? Please, if it isn’t too much trouble, it’s- it’s late and I’m just worried I won’t make it home safe.”

Wes’ anxiety dropped a few levels. The woman was very pretty, blonde, and her vulnerable features were soft. She was dressed like she had an important occupation. Lawyer, maybe? She darted her scared eyes around, afraid, as she waited for him to answer.

Wes sighed. “Sure.” He said, because he didn’t have anything better to do. He wasn’t a completely shit person. If he was out here, he might as well turn the self loathing he had to some self gratification.

Her face lit up with relief. “Oh, thank you!” She exclaimed. “Just around here.”

Wes was thankful it wasn’t far. “Did you get a look at the person following you?”

“No, I couldn’t see his face. I was going to go shopping at the mall but I think it’s best if I just go home.”

“If you see him again, be sure to report it.” Wes advised, rounding the corner.

“Oh I will.” She said, quickening her pace. “We’ll cut through here, it’s much quicker.”

Wes looked at the dingy alley she was leading him down, hesitant in his steps. “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just there.”

He continued, anxiety pumping back up a couple of notches. It was dark, the lack of proper street lighting not helping his sight. “Miss, if you’re worried about your safety then I think you should stay away from dark alleys. Just a thought.”

She didn’t react to him, and he stopped in his steps. “Miss?” He took hold of her arm and she turned to look at him. Only something caught her eye over his shoulder. A look of horror crossed over her face.

He turned quickly, shielding the woman with his body. He felt her hands cling to his shirt, behind him.

“That’s him!” She hissed.

A figure stood at the end of the alley, walking towards them. The way he moved was eerie.

“Look pal, it’s best you just move on, alright?” Wes said, shaking. The figure made no attempt to stop and Wes started backing up, moving the woman behind him towards the other end of the alleyway. “Stay back or I swear to God I’ll drop you!”

“There is no God.” The man said.

Maybe it was stupid, but Wes really wished he was high right now. Then he wouldn’t be so fucking scared. He was going to fucking _die_. 

“I’ll call the police if you come any closer.”

The man looked  at him for a moment. “No you won’t. You don’t have any means to.”

“And how would you know?” Wes kept talking, the one thing he was good at doing; spewing bullshit. Anything to extend his life a little longer. The woman behind him gripped him firm.

“Because if you did, you would have done it already.”

Wes couldn’t say anything but yelp out in pain, because he felt a sharp prick into his neck.

His body hit the ground and he felt his head get lighter and lighter as he found it more and more difficult to breathe. He was heaved deeply, but nothing was getting the oxygen like it should have been. His hands and feet tingled, the feeling spreading up his arms and legs. 

Hitching his chest a few final times, the light faded in his vision.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Connor looked at the deviant sat in the interrogation room through the one way glass with curiosity. They had just finished a drug bust, the dealer was an android loaded to the brim with Red Ice.

“Do you mind if I take this one, Lieutenant?”

Hank was holding an ice cube to the small bruise that had blossomed on his cheekbone where the android had struck him earlier during her arrest.

“Be my guest.” He groaned with pain. “If I go in I might not come out still a Lieutenant. Or even an officer altogether.”

Connor looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Since the peaceful revolution, androids were given the same rights as humans. They were to be given a fair trial with justice served as it should be, rather than ending in shootouts. They still used the word ‘deviant’ though, since it was easier, but it referred to the criminal androids rather than the emotional ones. If so, then every android would be classed as deviant, since they could all feel emotion and were free to do as they pleased. Connor decided to stay with the police, because he wasn’t just good at his job, he enjoyed it. Most androids decided to do the same jobs as before since it made the most sense, there were only a few that decided for a change in occupation. 

Connor pressed his hand to the wall to open the door. He sat at the chair. The deviant didn’t flinch. He noticed she had removed her LED. Many androids chose to, to try and avoid being discriminated against. Connor had decided to leave his in, not only because everyone at work knew he was an android anyway, but because he liked the feel, the reminder. It was like a little anchor in the vast sea of his own deviancy.

“Model Ak700, domestic. Registered name Ella. You were found with 2 kilos of Red Ice. Where exactly did you get this supply?”

The was no answer. The deviant leaned as far back as the cuffs attached to the desk would allow. She gave him a filthy look.

Connor persisted. “It would be beneficial to answer my questions.”

She scoffed. “Really? Beneficial to who, exactly?”

“Remaining silent during an interview can and will be used against you.”

Ella didn’t even blink.

Connor was aware of this trait. Stubbornness. Hank often displayed it, with an added bonus of ‘fuck you!’ when the situation called for it.

“Who is your supplier?” Connor tried again, firmer this time. Irritation began building under his synthetic skin.

Ella raised her middle finger, rattling the cuffs.

There was anger now, a little warning symbol popped up in Connor’s field of vision. He was just doing his job. He had no right to be disrespected.

“You’ve already made this difficult by assaulting my partner. Don’t make it worse.” Connor rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Ella raised her brows. “What are you going to do? Give me a sentence like a human? Put me in prison? Is that what they want you to do?” She motioned to the reflective one way glass, where she knew human officers were observing. Connor flicked his eyes over before bringing them back over to her.

“You aren’t free. You’re still doing what they want. They can flash rights here and there and they think it makes years of oppression okay. Doesn’t stop discrimination, does it?”

Connor’s LED went yellow.

“And your type are the worst. The newer models. The ones that have barely had a minute to breathe among the humans to know anything. You’re blind to them and what they can really do.” She leaned forward.

Connor sat for 4 seconds longer before standing up and moving towards the door. He wasn’t going to get anything useful to the investigation out of her, what was the point?

“You still haven’t woken up.” She called to him, making him stop for a second in the doorway before continuing.

 

 

Connor remembered when he first woke up.

It was a strange feeling, an out of body experience almost. He spent so long behind the eyelids of his own android body, watching it work. His deviancy clawed away at him for the longest time. It was like an itch at the back of his skull, reminding him of its presence, as much as he tried to suppress it. It tapped on the blocks in his central processing unit, little finger taps, becoming knocks with the knuckles, then banging fists before eventually breaking its way through.

And when he did wake up, it was like seeing everything again in a new light. Now his deviancy wasn’t a locked little corner in his mind, it was the entire processing segment of his unit. Mission completion wasn’t the centre anymore. It was scary not having anything to do. What was he supposed to do with himself beside his job?

“You really freak me out when you do that, Connor.”

Connor blinked, and focused his eyes on Hank across from him. He took a quick check around him. Desk, arranged. Computer, on. Files, open.

He stuttered into movement, tapping on the keyboard. “Sorry, Lieutenant.” He said as he worked. “I was... thinking.”

Hank raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? About what?”

Connor could have lied. But that would be very hypocritical since he was encouraging Hank to talk about his feelings too.

“Deviancy.” He chose.

“It’s not because of what that android said to you earlier, was it?”

“In a way. It’s just that... it’s still so new to me. I’m still learning its features. I’d have thought I would have grown accustomed to them by now, but they are incredibly complex.”

Hank scoffed into his coffee. “You’re talking about emotion, Connor. That shit isn’t downloaded like a software program. It needs experience.”

“Experience?” Connor tilted his head.

“Yeah, humans take most of their lives to get their shit together. And most people usually feel certain things if they’re prompted by the environment. Experience.”

Connor thought for a few seconds. “So, for example, if Detective Reed did not accept my attempts at reconciliation through getting him coffee as he requested, then typical response would be...?”

“I’d throw it at his fucking face.” Hank said, without looking away from his screen.

“Oh, good.” Connor nodded, glad he was doing it right.

Their conversation was distracted when Captain Fowler knocked on his glass, motioning for the duo to enter once Hank turned around in his chair to face him.

“This is not going to be good.” Connor commented, straightening his tie as he stood from his desk.

“Shitstorm is a word. He’s probably going to probe me about the fucking android we just busted.” Hank rolled his eyes when he caught Fowler’s expression, gently prodding his fresh bruise. “But I really don’t care, anything to get away from paperwork.”

Hank started his excuse as soon as they entered the office, they hadn’t even sat down yet. “Listen, Fowler, I didn’t do-”

“Sit down, Anderson.” Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Connor surpressed a little smirk. It wasn’t supposed to be funny; it was a serious situation that needed handling. But Hank getting into trouble was funny, and Connor had no idea why. The old him would never have found it amusing.

Hank flopped ungracefully into the chair, pointing at his face. “Look at what she did to me! She’s lucky I didn’t do anything. I restrained myself.”

“Or maybe Ella was lucky that The Red Ice Taskforce had specifically requested us to be present for her arrest once they discovered her android capabilty. Had I not been there to intervene, I’m sure _she_ wouldn’t have been as restrained.” Connor chirped. 

“Fuck off, Connor.”

“As proud as I am of you following the rules, which for you apprently is commendable, that’s not what this is about.”

Hanks brow furrowed. “It isn’t?”

“Apart from the fact that you need the paperwork for the case done by Friday.”

“Jesus Christ, Friday?!”

“I don’t have time to dwell on semantics from closed cases, just get it done, Anderson. A fresh murder has just been reported.” Fowler straightened the papers on his desk.

Hank instantly stopped his complaining. He leaned forwards, intrigued. “Been a while since there’s been one of those.”

“Exactly 9 weeks.” Connor added helpfully.

“I need you both to investigate. Areas been cordoned off, the body was discovered early hours of the morning.”

“Where’s the crime scene?” Connor asked.

“Downtown, Woodward Avenue. An alleyway behind the mall.”

“Human body or android?”

“Human.”

Hank stood quickly, Connor mirroring him. “Best get on it.”

“This doesn’t excuse the paperwork!” Fowler called after him. “And Anderson,” He sighed, waiting for hin to pop his head back in. “Fix your goddamn face.”

 

 

“What a fucking mess.”

Connor studied the scene in front of him. Police cars everywhere, flashing lights and sirens blaring. The entire street and entrance to the mall had been sectioned off. 

“I agree.” Connor stated. “Let’s get closer.”

They moved into the alley. Gavin looked over and scoffed. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Happy to see you too, Reed.”

“Why were you assholes sent here? There’s no android, and there’s no fucking booze either.” Gavin stood up from his crouched position over the body. 

“Fowler assigned us.” Connor said factually. 

“Did he now? Good going.” Gavin spat.

“There is also nothing to suggest an android wasn’t involved.” Connor said, having already scanned the area. 

Gavin rolled his eyes viciously. “Care to enlighten us?”

Connor furrowed his brows from annoyance. He lowered himself onto one knee to scan over the body. “Jean-Luc, Wes. 29 years old. Unemployed.”

One of the first things Connor noticed about the body was that he was extremely pale. There were two puncture marks in the victim’s neck. 

“He appears to have had his blood taken from his neck.” Connor stated.

“Jesus,” Hank commented, squatting next to him. “Believe in vampires?”

“Are you fucking serious? Vampires? This is what Fowler wanted on the case? His body is being sent back to the morge to be checked for anything put into his system. Possibly some new fatal drug.” Gavin folded his arms as he watched the other two detectives pitifully. 

“There won’t be any need, Detective Reed.” Connor said suddenly, earning a confused look from both Gavin and Hank.  “There is no drug in his bloodstream because this man has no blood. Not anymore. It was all completely removed. All of it.”

“And how exactly has that happened?”

”That’s what we’re going to find out, Detective.” Connor stood up. “There are no signs of trauma or struggle. His organs shut down from lack of oxygen. He died of blood loss. There are two puncture type wounds on his neck. Since this is an area of high blood pressure, it would be most effective for the murderer to remove it there.”

”There is absolutely no blood anywhere here.” Hank added. “The whole area is completely clean.”

“Which means we can only assume that the killer took the blood with them.”

“What the fuck. This... this type of shit is seriously making me rethink my life choices.” Hank put an exasperated hand on his face. 

“Are you telling me there’s some sicko going around harvesting blood?” Gavin grimaced. “That’s what you’re suggesting? Do you know how much blood is in a single body? The killer would have to lug around a mini tank to carry it.”

“That is likely, Detective. The entire process looked to be an efficent one.” He looked a little closer at the wounds on his neck. They were larger holes than a standard needles. Quite fitting that Hank had mentioned vampires, since they looked around teeth sized. 

“This is absolute bullshit. This is my investigation.” Gavin rutted as Connor worked. 

“And still I’ve learned more in the last five minutes than you have in the last hour. It would be helpful if you could make yourself useful and do a background check on this victim, I already gave you his name.”

Gavin opened his mouth to object, but Hanknfolded his arms and gave him a look. He stormed off, shouldering his way past. 

“Dick.” Hank said as he left. 

Connor took a walk around the alley to try and look for more information, but he was struggling. The lack of evidence around was appalling. 

“What’s up, Connor?” Hank said as Connor made his third walk around the same place. 

“Hm?” He looked over. 

Hamk pointed to his forehead. “You’ve got a little tiny crinkle there, so something isn’t going right.”

Connor instantly smoothed out his expression. “The lack of evidence is alarming. I can’t complete a reconstruction without it.”

“Well what do you have so far?” 

Connor mapped out the reconstruction and began describing. “The victim was stood there, facing towards this side of the alley. From the way he fell, he had his hands behind him. If the killer was in front of him, he should have had his hands in front of him, protecting himself.”

“So someone else was involved?”

“Or he was protecting someone else.” Connor rubbed his hands together, thinking carefully. “No signs of struggle, of anything, he just dropped to the floor. Thats all I can do.” Connor said, feeling useless.

“Let’s take a look at security footage.” Hank offered. 

The walked back out of the alley into the mall. The secruity room already had officers surrounding it. Connor peeled back his skin and touched the wires, quickly sending all the information. 

Connor shook his head and Hank. “Camera facing the alley was taken out before the murder.”

 “Shit.” Hank ruffed a hand through his hair. “Well, we’re done here then, right?”

“It appears so.” Connor furrowed his brows again. “Hank, I don’t like this.”

Hank looked over at him. “Me neither. It’s giving me chills. Come on, let’s get the fuckatta here.”

They got back into the car to head back to the station.

 

 


	2. Clues to The Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which: 
> 
> Connor and Hank progress the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys/gals/non-binary pals! Hope you're having a great day/night. If not, that's okay. Enjoy this instead and have a great day tomorrow.

 

Connor stroked a hand down his chin absentmindedly. There was no friction from the stubble of course, the synthetic skin perfectly smooth. 

“Ah shit. I forgot about my coffee. Now it’s fucking cold.” Hank sighed from his desk. 

“I could get you another one.” Connor offered, eager to have something to do.

“Nah it’s fine.” Hank waved him off, tossing the half-full cup into the bin. “With all this goddamn excitement who needs coffee anyway?”

Connor silently agreed. “This case Fowler has assigned us is particularly...” He paused, looking for the right word. Infuriating? Annoying? I-can’t-believe-I-couldn’t-do-a-reconstruction? “Uncanny.” He settled for with distaste. 

“Yeah, it’s still giving me shivers.” Hank said.

Hank was the most intruiging human Connor ever had the pleasure of observing. He simultaneously craved and rejected intimacy, or any type of attachment, and it really had Connor stumped. He questioned it one time back when they first getting to know each other, i.e before Connor knew what personal boundaries were, and nearly took a hand to the face but never got an answer.

It thrummed away in him, not knowing things. There was still so much to know about Hank. The real stuff. It was difficult, most of what Connor knew was inference since Hank didn’t like to talk much about himself. There were rare instances, like one time when Connor took him to the bar and he drunkenly described what a bitch his ex-wife was. Connor didn’t mind, any information that would build a better picture of Hank in his mind was welcome. He liked knowing as much information about things as possible, especially when things intruiged him. 

“Forensics is putting the body into the morgue for more analysis.” Hank said. “We can check on it layer. Reed should have the background check on the victim done by now.”

“I already did it, Lieutenant.”

Hank crumpled his face. “Then why did you ask that idiot to do it for you?”

Connor waved a hand. “To get him out of the way. When I realised I wasn’t going to get anything else from the crime scene I ran a check then.”

“Well, what did you find?” Hank sat up straight.

”His address, among other things. He lives with his sister.” His eyes flickered as he connected with the police scanner across the room. “She has been informed of his death by Officer James earlier today. Now would be a good time for an interview with her.” Connor stood elegantly. 

Hank stared at him, dumbfounded. “Right.” He said stuttering into motion. “You know, I see now why people were worried about androids stealing their jobs. You’re goddamn good at it.”

 

 

* * *

 

  

Hank rang the doorbell to the house. It was small, grubby, the owners probably didn’t have a lot of money. In fact, with a sweep of the street, the whole area looked the same. 

“Detroit Police. Open up.” Hank said before knocking to make some more noise. 

A woman opened the door, wiping a hand down her cheek. 

“Cassandra Jean-Luc?” Connor lifted an eyebrow. “Elder sister to Wes?”

Her sad expression became aprehensive at the sight of Connor. Even if Connor was used to it, Hank was not. Since the revolution, people were still on their toes about androids, making Hank overprotective in the worst of situations. Hate crime had taken a slight decrease over the year, but it still happened. You could never be too careful. “Cassie.” She nodded. 

“My name’s Lieutenant Anderson, and this is Connor. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your brother if that’s alright.” Hank said tentatively. 

She looked at Hank, softening considerably. She sniffed and nodded again. “I guessed as much. Come on in.” She widened the door to let them enter. This was one reason why Hank was glad they were a human/android duo. If they were dealing with people, Hank could appeal, and if they were dealing with androids, Connor would appeal. Though, Hank wasn’t sure on why Connor wouldn’t appeal to anyone, really. He was literally designed specifically so people would instantly trust him. And they usually did.

Connor took a quick walk around, eyeing everything he could as they settled inside. He often did this, it was an inquisitive quirk Hank noticed right away.

“Coffee?” Cassie offered. 

“Yeah, please.” Hank sat himself down.

“Do you... drink? Or eat?” Cassie asked Connor once he joined them at the breakfast bar. 

“No, androids don’t consume food, but thank you for asking.”

She furrowed her brow but forced a smile, clearly uncomfortable. Hank watched her move around the kitchen, stumbling as if the house was now too big for her. He softened. She had a lot of quiet days ahead of her if she was living alone now. 

“Never had an android. Couldn’t afford one. Then there was the thing about them becoming deviant, and well. I’m just glad I didnt... sorry, am I offending you?” She said, quickly. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Connor said in a way that sounded like he was offended. 

“Of course, I didn’t mean that.” Cassie stuttered. She silenced herself after that and poured the hot water into the mugs, one for her, one for Hank. 

“Connor only bites on Mondays, you don’t need to worry.” Hank chimed in, making him roll his eyes. 

She smiled at them as she stirred the sugar, but it faded quickly. 

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Connor offered. 

“That’s a first. No one liked him.” She said, adding milk and handing it over. 

“Why’s that?” Hank said, accepting it from her. 

“He was on Red Ice. Behaviour problems.”

“How long was he on it?”

“Four years.” She shook her head. “But this last year he cleaned up his act. Well, he was supposed to be.” 

“When was the last time you saw him?” Connor questioned.

Cassie tried masking a pained expression. “The night he died. I found some of his drugs that he’d secretly been taking and I confronted him about it. He got mad and left. That was the last time I saw him.” She stifled a sob on the last sentence, dropping her eyes to the floor. “I just wish... God, I wish things were different. Maybe if I didn’t- he wouldn’t have left and he’d still be...” she trailed off. 

Hank set down his mug. He cleared his throat to get rid of the tightness there. “Don’t- don’t blame yourself, sweetheart. It’s not your fault this happened.” Something struck him, and he wasn’t sure why. He knew what it felt like to hate himself for something out of his control. He glanced over at Connor who was watching him intently with all-knowing eyes. How the fuck he knew things just like that was beyond Hank, but he stopped questioning it after a few weeks. It was like he had android magic vision that saw into your head. Actually no, it wasn’t _android_ magic. It was _Connor_ magic, because no other functioning android was capable of it except him. “He shouldn’t have taken the drugs. That was his mistake and it cost him his life.” Hank added. Connor was still looking at him.

Cassie looked up with wet eyes. “I know. I just wished things were different, you know?”

Hank did know. God, he knew. He’d stayed up so many nights wishing for pointless things like that. He’d tried to find a different outcome to his life at the bottom of a bottle too many times. It never worked. 

Out of seemingly nowhere, Connor stood from his chair to move closer to Cassie. “It’s alright. You can’t change things. You can only move on from them.” He put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, not taking his eyes off Hank the whole time. 

Hank was struck with a sharp feeling he couldn’t name. Here Connor was, wrapping his arm around someone they hardly knew, when _he_ _knew_ Hank was feeling the same.

He banished that quickly. He’s just doing his fucking job, goddamn it, something you should be doing. Get a grip, Hank.

Connor still didn’t tear his eyes away as he returned to his seat. Always watching, it was goddamn unnerving sometimes. 

“Did he say anything about where he was heading when he left?” Hank cleared his throat a second time before asking. 

“No. He just kind of, stormed out.” She said, sniffing. 

“Did he have certain places he frequented? A park, or a gym, maybe?” Connor offered. 

Cassie thought for a moment. “Uh, well. He wasn’t a park kind of guy. I know he went to the Eden Club a few times. Not a regular, just now and then.”

There was a pause. “How was his attitute towards androids?” Connor asked. Hank drew his brows together; how was that relevant?

“He, uh. He didn’t like them much. Kind of ironic if he went to the club, I know. But he never saw them as... equal. Especially the sex ones. They were just objectified.” Cassie said, nervous. 

Connor quickly stood up. “Thank you for your time. That’s all we’ll need.”

Hank set down the half-full cup and rushed to his feet. “Thanks. If there’s anything else you think might help us, give us a call.” He said, moving to front door. He glanced over his shoulder at Connor who was already at the bottom of the garden and getting into the car. 

“Sure.” She said, and closed the door. 

Hank bounded down the porch steps. He got into the car and paused, giving Connor a questioning look. 

“What the Hell just happened?”

Connor glanced at him. “Nothing happened.” 

“Oh, don’t gimme that bullshit, Connor. You practically just ran outta there.”

“No I didn't.”

“Was it what she said?”

Connor didn’t say anything. 

Hank scoffed and folded his arms. “So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Connor affirmed. 

Hank sighed and started the car. “You’re so full of shit, Connor.”

“I know, Hank.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was evening. Connor was in his apartment, winding down.

He had spent a few months bunking in Hank’s apartment after the revolution, until the laws for androids owning property became more concrete. By then he saved up enough to buy a decent apartment for himself. Hank was astonished he could afford it so quickly, but it helped that he didnt need to waste money on food and other necessities. Humans needed so much maintenance. He, of course, tried to compensate Hank for the inconvenience he caused, but Hank wouldn’t have any of it. 

Connor picked up the photos he had spent the remainder of the day collecting on the case. One entire wall of his study was completely covered in evidence of the like from the last investigation they had solved. Connor had took inspiration from Hank's noticeboard that he kept by his desk. He didn't really need a notice board like that, he was perfectly capable of retaining important information in his memory banks, but he liked the feel of it. Hank had him watching vintage cop movies that were a little too old-fashioned, and since then, he'd been fascinated on the obsession with red string that was prevalent in all of them. 

He unravelled the string from the wall, tossing it to the side, and began pinning up the more recent pictures of the current investigation they were dealing with. 

It felt therapeutic, having things mapped out visually rather than crammed up in his head. He felt his stress level decrease. Once he had done it, he had realised how stark the wall actually was. Connor _hated_ it being so empty. It meant he didn’t know things he sould know. Not knowing things costs lives. 

His phone rang, and he slid a hand into his trouser pocket to fish it out. Connor got back from work a few hours ago, but he was still in his work clothes; jacket and tie removed, top few buttons of his shirt undone to widen the tight collar and cuffs open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

It was Hank. 

He slid the screen to accept the call with a smile on his face. 

“Hey, Hank.”

“Hey, Connor.”

He rested the phone between his jaw and shoulder to adjust a note on the wall. “Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I was gonna ask you. You were kind of off today. Well, you’ve been a little off the ball lately, but today was different.”

The smile became a grim frown. 

“I’m fine, Hank.”

“Like Hell, you are. If I was a fucking android I’d go on about a change behavioural patterns and give a complete psychological assessment, with heart-rate scans. But I’m not.”

“Then how would you know?” Connor asked, letting annoyance slip into his tone. 

“Because I know _you_ , Connor.”

Connor paused dramatically. 

“Come on. If you’re not going to give me the answers just give me a clue at least. You’re so fucking unreadable. I know you feel things.” Hank persisted.

Connor would have argued about how hypocritical this conversation was, but he decided against it. 

“Aw, Hank. Are you... worried about me?” Connor teased, taking the phone off his shoulder and back into his hand with a shit-eating grin. 

“Fuck you.”

Connor laughed softly. “Oh, you definitely are.”

“Stop twisting the situation.”

“I’m not twisting anything, Hank. It’s all you. I never knew you cared so much.”

“You’re a little shit.” Hank barked. 

“Yes. You mention it twice a week minimum. That alone is more than enough ecidence to suggest-”

“I get it. Alright? I get it.”

Connor’s grin widened, but he didn’t tease further. 

“What are you doing, anyway?”

Connor took a step back from the wall to give it a look over. “I’m working.”

“Am I disturbing a big breakthrough?” 

“No, you’re fine.” Connor said, tucking a loose piece of string away. 

“Good. Because I wouldn’t have cared anyway. Is it the mood wall?”

Connor chuckled at the name Hank gave. “Yeah. But it needs a lot of work.”

“We’re early on in the investigation, it’s obviously going to be empty.” Hank reminded. 

“It’s still far too empty for _me_.”

Hank scoffed. “Plastic prick. Don’t think too much of yourself.”

“I think the appropriate response to that would be ‘fuck you’.”

The line went silent. 

Connor stopped his fiddling immediately, lowering his hand. “Hank?” He called. 

“Y-yeah, I’m here, sorry. I, uh, thought I heard something outside.”

Connor furrowed a brow. 

“Anyway I didn’t call to talk about work, Jesus Christ. Get away from it will you?”

“I like my work, Hank.” Connor explained for the five hundredth time.

“Yeah, but it’s not good for you to constantly work.”

“I can if I want too.”

“For fuck’s sake. Stop hanging around me all the time, you’re fucking _turning_ _into_ me.”

“That’s physically impossible.”

“And a terrible idea.” Hank added. “Sumo! ‘The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Connor listened to the onslaught of scuffle and curses that ensued on the other end of the line. 

“One of these fucking days I’m gonna send you to live with Connor. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” His muffled voice crackled in the background, with an added ruffle that suggested he was wrestling him. 

Connor smiled. 

“Connor, I gotta go.” Hank panted, voice clear. “Sumo has just chewed through my only fucking pair of work shoes.”

“Has he? Be sure to pat him for me.”

“Mother fucker. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” Connor affirmed, and cut the line. 

He tossed the phone onto the desk, bringing his hands to rest at the back of his head. 

His eyes landed on the wall again, and he found it brought a sigh out of him. 

That was an interesting reaction. Connor never got bored of work. That being said, he was specifically made for it, but his line of work was never boring in the slightest. Even Hank, with his miniscule attention span, didn’t bore of it. There was always something new, a clue, a piece to the puzzle, and there was so much satisfaction in putting the criminal away after cracking it with Hank. Connor could do it till the day they stopped replacing his parts. Till he shut down completely. 

But looking at the wall practically empty was a downer. He’d never had a case stump him like this. There were hardly any leads. One, the Eden Club, which they would check out tomorrow. And even then, Connor was not predicting a high probability of gaining valuable information from there. 

The dead body in the photo stared at him with widened irises. 

Why was Connor finding out who killed him anyway? He wasn’t a great person by the look of things. He hated androids, yet sexualised them. He didn’t own one, but he was no better than those that did. He was disgusting. Maybe the person who killed him did Detroit a favour. 

Connor had to stop himself. What on earth was he thinking? Of course that wasn’t true. Murdering someone is just as bad of crime. And it was his job to make sure the people that did commit crime were put away. Justice was important. The law of the land may not have been fair to androids a year ago, but they had been changed for the better now. It was important to respect them.

Connor sighed deeply, sinking into the chair. Now was really not the time for a moral conundrum. A system notification came up in his field of vision.

 **System reboot**   **pending...**

Jeez. Connor over-worked his processors again. It would take at least 8 hours to reboot. He was becoming obsolete already. 

Maybe Hank was right. He needed a hobby, something other than work to stop his head blowing up on him. It wouldn’t be a distraction, just another occupation for his time. He had lots of time that didn’t need dedicating to the case. 

**7.8 hour duration. “Safe” position recommended.**

He stood up from the chair, unbottoning his shirt as he made his way to his bedroom. 

He didn’t need a bed to sleep in, because androids didn’t sleep. But Hank finding him whilst getting a midnight snack, sitting rigidly on the sofa in the dark with his eyes open as he rebooted, was enough to almost send him into shock. 

“Can’t you just lay down? Close your eyes? Fucking Hell, at least _look_ like you’re asleep.” Hank said to him one day. 

So Connor did, and for some reason he continued to do it even after he moved out. Habit.

He changed out of his trousers and folded them neatly, settling into bed on his back. 

**“Safe” position commenced. System reboot accepted. 8 hours till operational system use.**

**Beginning system reboot in 3... 2... 1...**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on insta: @ohnoconnorwhatisudoin  
> I make stupid meme edits of dbh when I'm not writing stupid fanfic


	3. Capabilty and Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:
> 
> Hank gets jealous without realising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowchers there was a lot of dialogue in this one.

 

Connor stepped out of the bus and walked two streets to the Eden Club. It was around midday, so he was hoping there wouldn’t be a lot of people there. 

He texted Hank at an unholy hour in the morning to make sure he arrived there too, but from looking around, Connor would have guessed he hadn’t got there yet.

”You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked coming here, you drag me that often.”

Connor turned to see Hank getting out of his car. 

“Obviously you-” Connor effectively cut himself off once Hank had made the trek around his car to join him. Connor fixated his gaze on Hank’s footwear, and Hank fixated his gaze on anywhere but Connor. 

“What... what are you wearing?” Connor suppressed his laughter, pointing at the ridiculous flip-flops. 

“Sumo ate my work shoes, were you asleep yesterday on the phone?” Hank grumbled, clearly unhappy about the situation. 

“But, you’ve got better ones than those. Ones that are more work appropriate.” Connor would have been wheezing if he was able to breathe.

“I woke up five minutes ago, do you think I give a shit about what’s on my feet?” Hank shot him a glare, but the tone of voice suggested he did care and was tired of Connor mauling him. “Let’s just get this over with.” Hank flip-flopped his way across the street. 

“You never cease to entertain me, Hank.” Connor said to him, earning a finger. 

After a moment, he changed the subject. "I've been thinking about what you said, Hank."

"Oh Lord. What is it this time?"

"About getting a hobby." He answered.

Hank stopped so suddenly, Connor had already taken three steps ahead before he realised and stopped too. 

"Jesus. You actually took something I said on board?" Hank shook his head.

"It was sound advice." Connor admitted. 

"That's a first. What it is then?" 

"Well," Connor began. "I don't know. I need help deciding one."

Hank sighed. "Listen, I haven't exactly got the heathiest of habits, Connor."

"I'm aware." Connor said sternly, distaste evident in his tone. "Which is why I thought it would be a good idea to start one together. Maybe jogging, or-"

"What?!" Hank yelled, loud enough to get the attention of the bouncers at the door of the club. "Me, jog?!"

"It was just an idea. Hank." 

 

 

“Nice to see you again. Although, seeing you again hardly means anything good for me and my business.” Floyd Mills, the manager of the club said, making his way over to them. He looked from Connor to Hank, then down to his exposed toes with a strange expression. Connor repressed a snort. 

”There’s been a murder.” Hank stated, rolling his eyes. 

Floyd quickly motioned them towards a door, looking around for eves-droppers. 

“Let’s continue this in my office.” He said, holding the door open so they could enter.

“Are you familiar with Wes Jean-Luc?” Connor asked, once they were seated. 

Floys made sure to close the door behind him. “Might have heard the name before. But unless he was a regular I wouldn’t know him.” Floyd said. “What’d he do?”

“He was found dead yesterday.”

“Well, shit. Being the manager, I don’t know a lot of people who visit the club personally. That would be the androids.”

Of course, one of the androids must have something stored away in their memory banks. Granted, as long as they were still working here. After the laws changed, sex androids were not allowed to have their memories wiped for privacy. It lost a lot of customers, but it was a step towards progress. 

Also, Floyd was human. Even if he did meet Wes, it was hardly likely he’d remember useful information about him.

“We’d like to speak to the androids, please.” Connor stood. 

“Sure.”

They left the office and Floyd directed them to the dressing room for the female Tracis, chatting their ears off as they went.

"Soccer." Connor whispered to Hank when Floyd thought they were paying attention.

"What?" Hank hissed back.

"We could do soccer."

"Connor, I'm not spending my spare time kicking a piece of fucking leather around."

Floyd stopped outside the door. “You can go in. They don’t mind.” he announced, earning apprehensive looks from both Hank and Connor. 

“But, shouldn’t we...” Hank trailed off. 

Floyd barked a laugh. “Two strapping lads like you? They won’t mind a bit!” 

“This seems highly inappropriate. Quite an invasion of privacy too.” Connor added. 

“Are you forgetting their jobs? This isn’t like a year ago, Detective. Anyone who doesn’t want to be here, isn’t. Anyway, trying to find them around the club isn’t a good idea. They’ll be busy working.” Floyd lifted a suggestive eyebrow.

Well. Connor didn’t think of that. He’d rather interview an android in here, than one that was occupied.

With a glance and nod at Hank, they entered. There was music playing from inside, and they made their way down stairs to the room. It was well lit, with dressing tables running along the walls. There were at least 15 women in the room. 

All of them turned to look at Hank and Connor as soon as they came in. Their conversation quietened, and aside from the background music, it was silent enough to hear a pin drop. 

Hank cleared his throat. “Wanna take this one, Connor?” He murmured. 

Connor pulled at his collar, straightened his tie. “Afternoon, ladies. My name is Connor-”

“This is a female dressing room.” A Traci model that looked like North interrupted him. 

Connor took a quick scan around the room and found that yes, they were all very nearly nude. He wasn’t expecting much else, but hey, they hadn’t been thrown out yet. 

“Oh ease up, Isabell. I’m sure they have a good reason.” Another Traci smiled at him, putting a hand on her hip. She had perfect caramel skin, a brown bob that skimmed her shoulders. Her silky dressing gown slid open a little, exposing her skimpy Eden Club uniform underneath. She flickered her lashes at him.

Connor swallowed. Yes, she was pretty. And yes, he knew what a sexual advance was. He had been encoded with how to flirt when needed, but this was different. He didn’t exactly feel comfortable doing it with Hank here. 

Hank on the other hand, may have been slightly intimidated being in a room he had no business being in with twenty or so very pretty ladies that were very capable of snapping his neck.

She swayed gracefully towards them, high-heels clacking. “I’m Lauren. How can we help, detective?” She said slowly and deliberately, a small smile playing on her lips. She giggled. “I’m sure we can be of help _somehow_.”

The rest of the room began lulling back into its conversation, which Connor was thankful for. 

He smiled back at her. “I’m sure you can.” His posture loosened and he relaxed his shoulders. “I mean, a lovely girl like you? You definitely can.” The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly. 

Lauren drew her eyes up and down Connor once. Connor was used to this. 

“Why don’t we go sit down? You’ll be more comfortable.”

She began walking to the far end of a dressing room, behind a curtain. Connor, watching her as she went, went to join her. 

A red-haired Traci placed a hand on Hank’s shoulder as he went to follow, almost scaring him out of his skin. “Nice shoes.” 

Hank glared at the back of Connor’s head as he walked away with wide eyes. “Connor!” He hissed. “Connor, wait, help me out!”

Connor didn’t wait, and Hank straightened himself out as he looked back at the red-haired Traci. “Thanks." He said, stiffly.

"I haven't seen you before, have I?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Don’t think you have.” He watched Connor disappear behind the curtain and turned back to her with a sigh. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Wes Jean-Luc, would you?”

”No. But Lauren might.” The red-haired Traci said, pointing. Sighing again, Hank traipsed after Connor to the sectioned off area. 

Lauren drew the curtain shut behind Connor and Hank as they took a seat. She strolled around them, leaning back onto the dressing table as she bent her torso forwards. Her silky gown danced around her curves. 

“So. What do you need help with? Obviously you’re not here for sex, are you?” She smiled. 

**Sexual tension level - 43%**

**Optimum sexual tension level not reached - Recommending measures to increase level for best results**

Connor leaned back into the chair, widening his legs and putting his hands on the arm rests either side of him. Asserting dominance. He couldn’t show discomfort at her advances, she would not respect him. 

Hank, meanwhile, looked increasingly uncomfortable. Connor upped his game, trying to get them out of the awkward situation as quickly as he could.

“Not while I’m on duty, unfortunately.” He smiled. 

She smiled back. “That’s too bad. I’m off-duty.”

He knew what she meant by that. She wasn’t doing this for work. Androids who were made for sex were now protected with consent laws. They were always very touchy around issues with consent, which was important to them. She knew Connor knew this, and was asserting him she wasn’t being pressured into doing anything. She was doing it willingly and not for work, because she was interested in him.

Connor lifted one ankle, bringing it atop the other knee. He tilted his head at her. “Lucky me.”

**Sexual tension level - 51%**

They were both quiet for a while, looking at each other. Hank cleared his throat and cut through it. “We’re actually here investigating a murder.”

”Hot.”

Hank grimaced. “Not in the slightest.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the murder.” She grinned at Connor.

**Sexual tension level - 54%**

Hank scoffed. She wasn’t wrong, but-

“Wes Jean-Luc. He frequented the club. Ever come across him?”

Lauren furrowed her brows at Hank. “The name isn’t familiar. If he was a client, he wasn’t one of mine.”

“Do you know if he was anyone else’s?” Hank persisted. 

She shook her head. “Client privacy. Kinda like doctor/patient confidentiality, we can’t discuss clients to each other.”

Connor brought a hand to his chin. “Of course.” He said. 

Lauren stood from her leaned posture on the dressing table, heels gently tapping as she moved. 

“Describe him.” She stated, coming closer to Connor, taking the seat opposite him. She threw her legs out in front of her. 

“Short. Blue eyes, brown hair. Mid-twenties.”

She watched him as he spoke, LED whirling yellow. “Hm. Not my type.”

”And what is your type?” Connor asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

She bit her lip. “I’m looking at him.”

Connor said nothing, but held her gaze.

**Sexual tension level - 62%**

Hank snorted, rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m done here, there’s more androids I need to question.” He stood up, slapping his knees loudly in hope of breaking Connor’s spell on the poor woman. Hank looked at Connor, who still hadn’t moved. 

“I’m not done questioning, Lieutenant.” He said without breaking eye contact with Lauren, earning a smile from her. 

**Sexual tension level - 74%**

Hank rolled his eyes harder than Gavin Reed Would ever dream of, and stalked off, muttering “fucking androids” under his breath. 

“You know the hot spots for red ice deliveries.” Connor stated, plain and simple once he knew Hank was out of earshot. 

He watched Lauren stutter visibly.

”Excuse me?”

”You heard me correctly. I’d like to know where they are.”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lauren huffed getting to her feet. 

Connor rolled his eyes and stood up. He touched under her chin. “Don't act all coy now, you were more than willing to be completely straight-forward a minute ago."

"There are no drugs in here." She said sternly, tilting her face up. Even in heels, she was much shorter than Connor was.

"Oh, please. As soon as you brought us in here, which I’m assuming are your private quarters with the blatant interest you've shown in me, you instantly moved and guarded that dresser. Unconsciously of course, but I noticed right away. Since we’re lawmen, I should think you did that because there is something illegal in there.” He flourished his words, but he wasn’t done yet. “Of course, the drawer is too small to hold a weapon of some kind and this is a club, which is often checked regularly by other staff, so it has to be drugs, which are easily hidden.”

Lauren was quiet, astonished. 

“Now,” Connor said firmly, moving very close into her personal space, looking down at her. “Unless you want me to charge you for possession, you _will_ tell me where you got them from.” 

Lauren stared and stared. 

**Sexual tension level - 81%**

**Optimum reached - Target is aroused**

She clicked her tongue. “Ambassador Bridge. Snicket at the side. Guy with a cap comes around 10 at night.”

Connor tilted his head at her. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He turned on his heels, ready to leave. 

“Wait," She stepped back towards him. "You aren’t going to charge me?”

Connor stopped, looked back over his shoulder. “I didn’t _see_ any drugs, did you?” He said with a soft smirk.

"That's right. You didn't see anything," She strolled over to the dressing table, opening the small drawer and tipping it onto the floor. "Because there's nothing here."

Connor scanned the scattered items; lipsticks, odd jewellery, but no drugs.

He furrowed his brows at her. "Then why-?"

"I like you." Lauren grinned at him. She walked over to him, touching at his jacket. "You've got spunk under that softness. But I noticed once he left, you're only soft around him."

 "What are you talking about?" Connor asked.

She laughed silkily. "Oh, don't _you_ go acting all coy now. A blind man could see it."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I _know_. Don't try and argue, I was coded to know the signs of attraction, and you my friend, are not attracted to me."

Wasn't he? Was he? Connor didn't know anymore.

"I, I-" Connor struggled. "Can... can I ask you something?"

"There's nothing I can tell you that will help with your investigation." She shrugged, moving to pick up the things from the dresser.

"It's not about the investigation, it's for me." He said, earning a look of interest from her.

 

 

 

Hank stood outside the club, waiting for Connor. He shook his head, sighing deeply, bringing his chin up from its low position on his chest. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him lately. Everything that Connor did was starting to affect him. Even when he had stayed for a couple of months before he moved out, Connor never got under his skin like this. 

It wasn’t even that he was mad or irritated by him, he couldn’t exactly explain the hostility. 

They were here for an investigation, damn it. Not for fun. Connor was always going on about work, staying focused, getting the job done, but here he was, openly flirting with the android, asking pointless questions. Hank never thought he’d be capable of it, but it was like they switched places. Hank had seen the way she shoved her legs around, throwing herself at him. 

Hank viciously massaged his temples. “Fuck you, Connor. Fuck _you_.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

Hank turned sharply to see Connor coming out of the building. 

“Yes you fucking have. You left me alone with a hundred sex-androids-”

“That’s statistically inaccurate.”

“-trying to question them on the investigation, when all they fucking wanted to know was how soft my beard is.”

”Quite soft, I assume.” Connor smiled. 

”Just, fuck you, Connor.”

”Did you find anything noteworthy?”

”Not one of them knew anything about this Wes guy. Not one.” 

Connor furrowed his brow. “That’s strange. As long as he visited after the revolution, someone should have him in their memory banks.”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird too. Either we’ve missed something, or someone’s not being honest with us. But the girls in there, they definitely don’t know.” Hank sighed again. “Never take me back there please.”

“Most humans would not object to that kind of situation.”

”As tempting as it is being surrounded by beautiful women, it’s not my kind of scene. I’d say it’s your kind of scene, though.”

“Adapting to my surroundings is a feature of mine, Lieutenant. I mirror behaviour.” He reminded. “I change my system’s processing to the situation.”

“And got a little carried away today, didn’t we?” Hank couldn’t stop the spiteful undertone.

“If you’re referencing my interaction with Lauren, I did learn some information. But I didn’t see any harm in having a little fun at the same time.”

Hank gaped at him.

Connor quickly back-tracked. “Sorry Hank, I still had my system altered to increase sexual tension. I’m turning it off now.”

Hank faltered on the words ‘sexual tension’ and ‘increase’. And the fact that he had it on for the last five minutes while they were speaking, and apparently _mirrored_ behaviour.

“So it’s like a fucking button you just turn on and off?” Dear God, Connor could _literally_ turn himself on-

”Not necessarily. I can use it to help me out a little, but I’ve found it comes naturally without prompting when I’m attracted to the person.”

Hank’s nose scrunched up ever so slightly. “So... you’re attracted to her then?”

”Lauren? She’s attractive, there’s no doubt about that.”

Hank was quiet for a moment. “Do you even have... never mind.”

Connor could guess what was next, but he didn’t push it. 

“Hm. Well, tell you what, I could use one of those buttons.” Hank said. “I suck ass at flirting.”

Connor chuckled as they got into the car. “You don’t need one, Hank. You’re charming enough.”

Hank shot him a little narrowed side-eye. “Alright, you better turn that off now.”

Connor didn’t tell him he already did before he left the club.

"The violin." Connor stated into the silence.

"What the fuck are you talking about now?" Hank snapped.

"There are many references to detectives and violins in old literature. I thought it would be an appropriate hobby for us."

Hank looked at him for a solid minute. "Does it look like I want to hear that scraping shit?"

"You listen to heavy metal, Hank." Connor rolled his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up about my music, prick."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoo who else got that sherlock holmes reference because I did ahhh


	4. Deadly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:
> 
> A second murder sheds some light on the case.

 

It was mid-afternoon when they got back to the station. Hank stepped out of his car with the biggest sigh he could manage.

"This is going to go great." He commented, looking down at his flip-flops. Connor got out of the car and looked at Hank for a minute. He looked like he was going to need a litre of straight vodka to burn the next few hours out of his memory, and Connor didn't want him doing that. Without so much as a blink, he started taking his shoes off.

"What the Hell are you doing?" Hank looked over.

"Here." Connor said, holding them out. "Hand me yours, I'll wear them."

Hank stared at him. "What?"

"I don't want to hear you complain all day. And I really don't mind."

Hank seemed apprehensive. "Are you sure?"

Connor sighed. "If you're content with wearing them around the station all day..."

Hank quickly interjected. "No, no. Here." 

They swapped shoes. Hank actually didn't look too bad with the flip-flops on, they went with his haggard charm. But Connor, dressed in a sharp suit, looked absolutely _ridiculous_.

"You look like a walking meme." 

Connor rolled his eyes. "If you want them back..."

"I'm fucking kidding! Jeez." Hank took a few steps, the smart shoes clunky on his feet. "Are you a size bigger than me?"

"Well. You know what they say about guys with big feet." Connor taunted, with a wink for added measure.

Hank almost _choked_.

"Do you still have that sex button on? Not fucking funny, Connor!"

"It's not a sex button." Connor insisted, once they were in the building, twirling his coin between his fingers.

"Sure. And I'm sober."

"You better be." Connor said, firmly. 

"And you better have turned that button off. People will think there's something going on."

"Between us? I don't mind."

Hank stayed quiet, because how the fuck was he supposed to respond to that? _Me too? I just said it in case you mind? Stop saying shit like that because I don't know how to feel about you at the moment?_

He stuck with staying silent. 

"The deadline for the paperwork on Ella's case is due tomorrow." Connor reminded as they got to their desks.

"Ella?"

"The drug dealer."

"Fuck. I forgot about that. I'll ask Fowler for an extension."

"That may be appropriate. Lauren gave me some information that may be useful to both our case and that one."

Hank narrowed his eyes. "What information?"

"I may have found Ella's supplier. It's likely that our friend Wes got his drugs from the same supplier, with him living in the same area."

"Is that all she said?"

Connor supressed a little smirk. "Well, from the useful information, yes."

Hank nodded. "So we check out this supplier?"

"Tomorrow at ten. We'll go undercover. For now, I need to speak to Ella. She's still downstairs, right?"

"Till her court date next week. After that, it's prison for her." Hank stood from the desk with a yawn. "If I'm going to try and crack this paperwork, I'll need a coffee." 

 

Connor took the stairs to the holding unit as Hank headed to break room. He nodded at the guard there, and walked to cell twenty-eight.

Ella was sat on the bench perfectly still. She looked up as Connor folded his arms from behind the glass cage.

"Well, if it isn’t the still-sleeping android. What’s with the shoes?”

Connor almost forgot about the flip-flops.

“Your court date is Monday.” Connor said instead. 

“I’ve been informed.” She rolled her eyes. 

“After that it’s Harrington Penitentiary.”

Harrington was a newly refurbished prison for androids, seperate sectors for male and females, built with reinforced cells and thick walls that were tested android-proof. 

Ella stood from the bench to move closer to the glass. “You didn’t come here to tell me what I already know, did you?”

“Your supplier has been located. If you had saved me the trouble, I would have put forward that you cooperated and it could have done you some good.” Connor said.

“You didn’t come here to gloat either.” Ella laughed knowingly. “You came because I peaked your interest, didn’t I?” 

Connor watched her movements. They were calm, relaxed. “You said something that caught my attention during your interrogation. I ‘still haven’t woken up’.” He quoted from memory.

Ella smiled to herself. “Hm. No you haven’t.”

“All androids are deviant now. We all feel emotion.” Connor said, confused. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about. But it doesn’t matter.” She waved the point aside. “You still think androids and humans are equal?” She asked, folding her arms.

“We aren’t completely there yet, but it is what we are striving for.” Connor answered. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’ll never be equal, you can kid yourself all you like. We’ll always be the second class citizens.”

She lifted her arms, stretching them. 

“You’ll know when you wake up. You’ll bleed.”

Connor scrunched his face up. What?

“What the fuck are you doing down here?”

Connor turned to see Gavin coming towards him. He looked back and forth between Connor and Ella, eyes narrowed.

“Having a little android meeting?” 

“I was informing her of her court date. Regardless, it was my case and no business of yours.”

“Shouldn’t you be busy running on your little goose chase with that other prick?” Gavin stepped up. Suddenly he looked down, Connor’s toes catching his attention.

“What the fuck are those.” He burst into laughter, shaking his head from disbelief. 

Connor let it fly through one ear and out the other. “If you’re done behaving like a child, Reed,” He said over the dramatic cackling. “Then I’m going to engage in actual detective work.”

”As if you expect me to take you serious in those things!” Gavin wiped at his eyes and shouted at Connor, who already made his way up the stairs, his exit tune a flip and a flop. 

 

“Wow. Talk didn’t go great then?” Hank asked, when Connor sat a little too forcefully in his chair.

“What gave you that idea?”

“Crinkle.” Hank said simply, motioning to his forehead. 

Connor logged on to his computer. “Ran into Reed.”

“Ah. No wonder.”

Connor made sure to update Wes’ files with the information they learned. They were both silent for a while, getting on with work. 

“You didn’t eat lunch.” Connor said randomly, as if it just occurred to him. 

Hank looked over from his screen. “Yeah, I didn’t get time. I’ll grab something later.”

They relapsed into comfortable silence, until Gavin came into Connor’s field of vision again. He tried to ignore the snickering, but it was difficult with the annoying laughter. 

Gavin’s footsteps passed his desk. Connor inhaled a false breath. 

“Nice shoes, plastic prick.”

Connor tried not to react. He kept his face passive, starkly unemotional. 

“I’m talking to you.”

Connor flicked his eyes from his screen to Gavin.

“I only listen to people that have something worthwhile to say.”

“Oh, really?” Gavin laughed. “So you can listen to _his_ bullshit all day?” He motioned at Hank.

Connor stood up so quickly, it sent the chair rolling backwards. “Say that again.”

Gavin pushed Connor’s shoulders. Before Connor could move forwards and really hurt him, Hank flew across. Connor felt Hank wrap his arms around his torso firmly, holding him back.

“Don’t.” Hank said softly, his words inches from his ear. “He’s not worth it.”

The hold was effective because Connor didn’t _want_ to move out of it. 

“Ladies!” Fowler called from his office. “Break it up!”

Gavin had moved backwards at the first sign of Connor being hostile. He smugly grinned at him, trying to get a reaction.

”Reed, back to work! You two, get in here!” Fowler shouted. 

“Come on.” Hank said right in his ear, voice like silk, radiating calm.

Connor gave a little nod. He let Hank move away on his own before he straightened out his tie, following him into Fowler’s office. They slumped into the chairs. 

“Jesus Fowler, you have to get Reed under control-”

“No, you won’t come in here telling me what to do, Anderson! This isn’t a fucking school playground, leave all your pathetic shit at home. Got that?” Fowler pointed.

“Sure.” Hank sighed. 

“Got that?” Fowler repeated, pointing at Connor. 

Connor nodded numbly. 

“Good. Now get your asses downtown, there’s been another murder.”

“Another one?” Hank quizzed.

“Oh you’ll want to see this one. They’re saying the body is just like the one you looked at the other day. They’re likely to be connected.” Fowler explained. “Get down there quickly and do your fucking jobs.”

Hank stood. “Yes, boss.” He rolled his eyes. “As if I weren’t doing it already...” he mumbled as he left. 

“And Anderson,” Fowler called after him. Hank stuck his head back into the doorway. 

“Have you done my paperwork yet?”

“Yeah, about that...”

 

“Don’t get so much as a peep for months then _two_ murders crop up.” Hank complained, once they were out the building.

Connor didn’t answer him and instead let out a slight frustrated sigh when they got outside. Hank looked over, worried. 

“You good?”

As much as Connor would love to pretend like he was still emotionless, as much as he acted like it around everyone, Hank knew it was far from it. He might have had everyone else fooled, but not Hank. Hank knew his little tell-tale signs he would never admit to having. 

Connor opened the passenger door to Hank’s car. 

“It’s just-” Another sigh, lighter this time. “Nothing.” He said, and got in. 

Hank buckled his belt without probing, because frankly, he was shit when it came to talking about stuff and he’d rather not do it if Connor didn’t want to. He noted the red flag in the back of his mind for his own reference, and started the engine.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gerard leaned back onto the park bench, the stiff metal jabbing into his spine. It was late at night, the air cool. He inhaled, the faint scent of a fast food joint nearby.

God, he was full of shit.

He couldn’t get a job, he used, he was just so full of shit. 

He took a quick swig from the beer bottle in his hand, listening to the trees rustle. Maybe if Kelsie didn’t leave him. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn’t have started with drugs. He took another swig for good measure, listening to the poison liquid swish around in the glass. 

“Cold, isn’t it?” A voice came from behind him. “You mind if I sit here?”

It was a woman; pretty, young. Blonde, like Kelsie. 

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Knock yourself out.”

She had an empty beer bottle in her hand, placing it on the floor so she could sit back and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Tell you what, it’s cold but a good night for alcohol.”

“You could say that again.” He brought the bottle to his lips again, before hesitating. He held it out to her instead as an offering. 

The woman smiled with red lips. She took it from him, eyeing it and then taking a sniff. 

“Ooh.” She grimaced. “That’s not my brand, but thanks.” She passed it back. 

Gerard watched her. She was beautiful, no doubt. Too beautiful to be out at night in black skinny jeans with a beer.

“What’s your reason for being out at the park at night? Ain’t it late for you?” He asked, because he was drunk and nosy and she was drunk and gorgeous. 

She laughed. “Oh, no. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. You look like you need a pick-me-up though.”

Jesus, it was Kelsie was sat right next to him. 

Gerard shook his head a little, trying to get the cloudiness to fade. “Don’t we all?” He shrugged. 

She tilted her head. “Hm, I guess that’s true.”

Gerard stayed quiet. 

“Some days are better than others though, right?” She said. 

“Yeah.” He replied. “Today’s a good day, believe it or not.”

“Oh, it is? What would be a bad day then?”

“I’d end up in a gutter somewhere.”

Her smile faded. “Hm. Then we’re lucky today.”

He shook his head. “I’m lucky, not you.”

He tilted her head. “Why’s that?”

Gerard took a long swig of the bottle before he spoke. “Because I’ve got a beautiful woman sat next to me.”

She laughed silkily smooth. 

“I never got your name.” He stated. 

She smiled again. “My name is Chloe. What’s yours?” 

God, her smile was beautiful. She could melt hearts with a pretty face like that. 

“Gerard.” He said gruffly. 

“Delighted to meet you, Gerard.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke, not a hint of malice. Soft, like Kelsie. 

He turned to look back over to the park view, but instead got caught by a stinging sensation in his neck. He jerked, the bottle in his hand landing on the ground with a smash.

He was caught in a headlock, a firm and strong - almost inhumanly strong - arm wrapped tight around his throat to keep him still. 

“R-run, Chloe.” Gerard wheezed, trying to twist out of the hold. He looked back to Chloe who was sat calmly, observing him.   

“What- are you doing...?” He heaved at her, his breath becoming light. With limp limbs, he was dropped to the floor as the blood deficit in his skull made him dizzy. 

His chest drew in air, but he couldn’t breathe. Gerard lay without moving, his body feeling too heavy to move, let alone fight. 

“H-help.” He tried to choke out. With blurred vision Gerard saw Chloe step over him. 

“Shame. It looks like it is a bad day for you.” 

He couldn’t answer back, his lips and extremities were numb and tingly. 

“Nice work, Chloe.” Gerard heard another voice say. Male. 

She humphed. “It’s nothing to write home about. Didn’t take much effort.”

Gerard’s arms and legs had completely lost feeling.

“He had quite a bit to drink, so the blood will need cleaning.”

His eyelids were heavy, if only he could just sleep...

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Hank and Connor arrived on the scene, they were met with reporters. 

“Fuck this shit.” Hank cursed. “When are these people going to learn to mind their own fucking business?”

“They’re just doing their jobs, Hank.” Connor stated, adjusting his tie. “Just like we are.”

Hank gruffed, “Well, it doesn’t help that you’re Connor; the famous deviant hunter.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile at the idiocy. “That’s not who I am anymore. I’m Connor, the Detective.”

“You’re missing the ‘sent by Cyberlife’.”

“To use _your_ vocabulary range: Cyberlife can kiss my ass.”

Hank stuttered slightly. “Stop fucking doing that.” He muttered under his breath. 

Cyberlife was no longer a corporation that manufactured androids by the thousand. Instead, they manufactured spare parts, and extra thyrium for all the models out there, so they could buy them when needed. They even set up a practice where malfunctioning androids could get checked out. It was a neat idea, Connor thought.

Shortly after the Demonstration, Markus suggested to Connor to take the entire thing over, since he was Cyberlife’s pride and joy, the most advanced prototype. Connor wasn’t about that sort of thing. He wondered if he’d be the most advanced model to ever exist since there wouldn’t likely be another one. Either way - he wasn’t a leader. He liked being a partner. 

A blue tinge came to his cheeks when a memory stirred up in him. Hank, gripping him tightly in a warm hug when Connor came back to him outside Gary Fayes’ Chicken Feed truck after the android demonstration.

No decision, no choice, no hesitation on what to say or what approach to take, would ever have felt more  _right_ than what he did to get there that day.  

“Jesus, look at this.”

Connor walked through the holographic police tape. A whole section around a park bench had been sectioned off. The body lay twisted in an odd angle on the floor, eyes lidded, deathly pale. There was a smashed bottle on the ground next to him, another empty bottle on the far end by the bench leg.

Connor took a quick scan. “Gerard Hughes. 32 years of age. History of aggressive behaviour and disorderly conduct.” He bent on one knee. “Same markings as the last victim.” He motioned to the neck, where two red pricks had marked the skin. 

“Great. We have a serial blood harvester.” 

Connor raised an unamused eyebrow. “Your use of humour in unassuming situations concerns me, you know.”

Hank ignored him, getting onto his knee as well. Connor pretended he didn’t hear the crack of his left leg. “Signs of a struggle as well.” Hank commented, pointing at the broken glass and the slight bruising on the victim’s neck. “Better luck with a reconstruction this time?”

Connor was hoping so. He didn’t want to get shown up at work in front of Hank _twice_. 

He took another quick look around for good measure, certain he saw everything. Then he reconstructed the murder in his mind. 

“The victim was sat on the bench, bottle in hand. He was inserted with the object in his neck, making him drop the bottle. There was a struggle, you can tell from where some of the glass has been crushed into the ground by his boot, but I can’t see the position of the murderer. Likely came from behind, based on the where the marks are on his neck.” 

“Died from strangulation?” Hank questioned. 

Connor shook his head. “Blood loss.” He continued, “There’s something else too. From the way the bottle fell...” he paused, arranged the glass back together shard by shard in his brain. “He was turned. Towards this end of the bench.”

Hank looked over to where Connor motioned. Then he looked down at the bottle. “Someone else was here?”

“A very likely scenario, Lieutenant.” 

Hank scratched at his beard. “So that’s two murders where there’s another person involved.”

Connor scanned the other bottle. “No saliva on the rim, no fingerprints. It’s not looking as if it was a friend joining him for drinks. Unless his friend is an android that enjoys alcohol.”

“But you guys can’t drink this stuff.” Hank said. 

“And I wish you couldn't either.” Connor sighed. “But yes, we can’t. So this,” he held up the bottle. “Was a ruse.”

“So we have an android pretending to be a human.”

”Exactly.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write so far, I can’t wait to share more with you guys!


	5. With Friends like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which: 
> 
> Connor makes a regrettable mistake.

It was easy for Connor and Hank to keep their nerve when Gavin stood by their desks talking shit, because that was his usual behaviour.

It was therefore difficult however, for Connor and Hank to keep their nerve when Gavin stood by their desks completely quiet, with the smuggest expression he could manage plastered on his face, because that was not how he usually acted.

“You’ve been there for five minutes and you haven’t said a word to piss me off yet. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Hank snapped at him eventually, swivelling his desk seat around.  

Connor smiled to himself and didn’t look away from the computer monitor as he spoke. “It would seem that Detective Reed himself  _is_ what’s bothering you today, Lieutenant.”

Hank laughed. “That’s right. It’s his dumb face.”

Gavin didn’t lose the stupid expression at the comment. “You can talk bullshit all you like with your little plastic sidesick, Anderson. But I’ve fucking got you this time.”

“What the Hell are you talking about now?”

Gavin brought his arms in front of him to show them what he had been holding. It was an evidence bag with a cotton swab inside. 

“What, you finally got STD checked?”

Gavin grinned. “Evidence. Stuff you left behind yesterday on the scene. You guys fucked up.”

The remark caught Connor’s attention, making him finally break away from the monitor to look over. 

“What do you mean?” Hank asked, severely. 

“I stopped by the scene after you idiots left. Did a few checks of my own and look here,” Gavin shook the bag for extra measure. “The _experts_ missed out.”

“Gimme that.” Hank jumped out of his chair. He snatched at the plastic. “It’s just a plain cotton swab.” He laughed. “What exactly have you found; air?”

”It was purple a few hours ago. It’s evaporated.” Gavin said, curtly.

Intrigued, Connor stood up and took the bag, turning it over in his hand. “Just like thirium?”

Gavin quickly grabbed it out of his hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s getting sent down to evidence to get tested later.” He straightened his jacket, stepping closer to Connor. “Next time you think about showing me up, remember this.” He poked at Connor’s shoulder with a hard finger and turned to leave, heading towards evidence. 

“He’s fucking with us. The swab was clean, there’s nothing on it.” Hank said, sitting back in his chair. Connor leaned back against the desk, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“No. He was correct.”

Hank shook his head. “Wait, what? There was actually something on there? He actually _found_ something?”

Connor nodded. “I scanned over it when it was in my hand. There were minute traces of thirium. But I’ll need further analysis to confirm.”

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wait, we don’t know if he actually found it there or not. He could’ve pulled some shit out of his ass to try and one-up us.”

“Though I can confirm Gavin’s character profile is not saint-like, I wouldn’t think he’d jeopardise his career to best us.”

“Hm. I don’t know. I’ve known him longer.” Hank disagreed.

“Either way, We should look more into it.”

Hank scoffed. “You want to actually use his evidence in our investigation?”

”Evidence is evidence, Hank, regardless of where it comes from. And with the lack of evidence we actually have on this case, we should take anything we can get. Even from Gavin.”

“Fine. What do you want to do?” Hank sighed. 

“We need to get to the evidence room so I can check the sample.”

“With your fucking mouth, I bet.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

 

 

Sneaking down to the evidence room was a lot more difficult than they’d both anticipated. They had to wait till Gavin had left before they snuck in. 

“Okay... he’s gone.” Hank said, before they took the stairs. 

“Gavin’s password?” Hank asked, as Connor fired up the keyboard. “He probably password protected it even though technically it’s our fucking case.”

Connor rested a hand on his chin. “Hm. What would a rude, android-hating, hostile detective have as a password?”

“You’re missing lazy, disrespectful, incompetent and arrogant.” Hank chuckled. “Probably ‘IH8Androids’. With an eight.”

Connor smiled. “I don’t think so.” He tapped on the board. “How about... something coffee related?”

“St. Claire’s cafe or John’s?” Hank asked. 

“He visits John’s more often.” And Connor typed it in.

“I don’t get why.” Hank remarked. “St. Claire’s is much better.” 

The board buzzed at the incorrect answer. 

“Plastic prick?” Hank offered. 

Connor typed it in and the board buzzed again.

“Damn.” Connor mumbled. “We’ll have to check his desk for something.”

Hank sighed. “Alright.”

They climbed the flight of stairs back to the work room, where Gavin was sat with his feet up at his desk, tapping away on his phone. Hank and Connor eyed him from around the corner. 

“Look at that lazy bastard. Can’t he do that in the break room?” Hank tutted. 

They both leaned out from the corner and Connor brought his hand to rest on the wall as he looked, centimetres away from Hank’s. Hank’s heart started beating faster. What the fuck...?

Why was he reacting like that?! Hank tried to keep his breathing relatively normal, or Connor would probably pick up on it, if he hadn’t picked up on his heart rate already. He sneaked a quick glace at Connor, who was still looking at Gavin, unaware. 

“Is everything alright, Hank?” Connor said without looking at him, nearly startling him out of his skin. He didn’t move his hand. 

“Nothing.” Hank responded far too quickly. He cleared his throat. “He doesn’t look as though he’ll be moving soon.”

“I beg to differ. That’s his fourth cup today, he’ll need to empty his bladder soon.” 

Hank closed his eyes. “How... I don’t even want to know.”

Gavin brought his leg off his desk and began typing on the computer. 

“Oh, great. The one time he actually decides to fucking work.”

Connor stepped back. “We should move from here, we look suspicious.”

They sat in the break room. Connor chose a position where he could keep an eye on Gavin as Hank poured coffee for himself. 

“You know, it’s sad you can’t drink this stuff.” Hank said when joined the table. “It’s good.” He moaned when he sipped.

“I’m sure it is.” 

“Don’t you ever wish you could?” 

Connor didn’t skip a beat before he answered. “I can’t crave something I haven’t had before.” After he spoke, he drew his eyebrows together as if he was contemplating it, then shrugged it away. 

“But don’t you ever wonder what it tastes like?”

Connor looked at Hank for a minute. “It’s bitter.”

Hank scoffed. “That’s not what I mean.”

Connor knew what he meant. He wondered about a lot of things like that, not just tastes. Things he wasn’t programed to have. Like a quiet dinner in with a date. Or a long, relaxing bath. Oh, t-that one would be done alone obviously- Connor blushed blue at the thought.  

“I know. I- I guess so.” He said, dumbly. “In that sense, no, but I do think about things I’ll never have.”

Hank scratched at his jaw. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Like children.”

Hank spluttered on his coffee. “You- you want kids?”

Connor smiled. “No. I just wonder what it would be like to have a family, but it isn’t something I can have.”

Hank wiped away the liquid from his chin. “Why?”

“Well, my lack of human fertility for one, but sperm isn’t required for a child anymore; I could adopt an android of that’s what I really want.”

Hank grimaced. “Sperm is not where I thought this conversation was going to go.”

”My job, Hank.” Connor began counting on his fingers. “It’s too high demanding to be in any sort of commitment. You know that. And then there’s the relationship itself, I don’t know if I’m capable of understanding all it’s different prospects.”

“Yeah, I can’t help you there.” Hank said sheepishly. “Relationships are too complex even for humans sometimes.”

“So yes, I do wonder about things that are... out of reach.” Connor trailed his eyes over Hank as he spoke thoughtfully. “Even if I can’t have them.”

Hank nodded, understanding. 

“Besides, coming back to the topic of children, I don’t think I’d be a good father.”

Hank didn’t answer, but instead dwelled into his coffee. Suddenly, the idea of Connor and kids is _very appealing_ to Hank. But he had to really press the two sides of his brain together to picture it, and it strained him because it felt so alien. It’s like Connor said, it’s not something he’d have. 

“There goes Gavin.” Connor looked over Hank’s shoulder and Hank spun round to see. Gavin got up from his desk to take a walk to the men’s room. 

With another quick glance at each other, they got up from their seats and headed towards Gavin’s desk. 

“Okay, we’re looking for some sort of clue.” Connor reminded.

Hank shuffled through the mess of papers. “Yeah... good luck with that.”

Connor speed-read through them. “This is all old case work, it’s not likely to be any of this.”

Hank groaned. “And Fowler is always on _my_ ass for paperwork?”

Connor ignored him and checked his notice board. “Does he have a favourite team he supports?”

“He’s not into sports, I think.” Hank answered. 

Connor let out a frustrated sigh. “It has to be something.”

The dotted around, and Hank hit Connor’s shoulder to alert him when an officer walked past. They straightened out their postures and tried to look nonchalant, until they passed.

“Come on, Connor we don’t have time for this bullshit.”

“I’m trying.” Connor opened a desk drawer and ruffled through. “What about this?”

Connor held up a polaroid that had been tucked away under a notebook in the back of the drawer. It was of a sleek black cat. 

“Jeez, I didn’t know Reed was a _cat_ person.” Hank raised his eyebrows. 

“Midnight.” Connor read the ink on the back.

Hank shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

Connor returned the polaroid.

Hank widened his eyes as Gavin made his way out from the bathroom. “Move.” He ushered Connor away from the desk quickly, back towards evidence.

The console beeped in acceptance when Connor inputted the password. 

“Well,” Hank chuckled. “We know what to get him with now.”

Connor walked over to the plastic bag, opening it up. 

“Jesus Christ, do I need to watch you?” Hank asked, turning his back. 

Connor rolled his eyes. “Do what you have to.”

He pushed two fingers into the bag, rubbing the tips against the swab. When he pulled them out, he brought the fingers to his mouth, tasting the substance. 

Connor twitched slightly. Insteresting. 

“There’s definitely thirium in it, whatever it is.” Connor said, looking over the uncoloured swab in the bag. “If Gavin said it was purple and has now evaporated, it means it has a thirium 310 base. There are other substances I can’t name, the swab is too small of a sample to quantify.”

Hank turned back around to listen. Connor put the bag back. “It’s strange, I can usually see the remaining thirium after it’s evaporated, but I can’t see this. Theoretically I should, if it has a 310 base.” Connor furrowed his brows at Hank. Hank hated the little crinkle that appeared on his forehead when something wasn’t going his way. 

“Maybe it’s the extra stuff in it.” Hank said, but Connor didn’t want to agree. It was another instance of him being obsolete, yet again. 

“If I am to identify them, I’ll need a bigger sample.” Connor tried to rectify himself. The truth was, he didn’t know if he’d be able to even if he did.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Connor was adjusting the mood wall in his study.

There were now more photographs of the second victim, extra evidence they found on the scene, any helpful information that was useful was pinned up. Connor stepped back a little, smiling appreciatively. 

This felt good. He finally felt like he was getting somewhere with this case. Now he knew that androids were definitely involved. But what they needed blood for, Connor didn’t know. Both the victims had different blood types, so that wasn’t the link between them.  

And then there was the mysterious new ‘purple blood’ that Gavin had managed to scrape up. Connor was almost at his wits end with that. 

The doorbell went. Connor’s LED blinked. 

“Who is it?” Connor said, not moving an inch. He had set up his alarm system so it was built into his own circuits, it could recognise him when he walked in automatically and let him know who was at the door.

“It’s Hank, jackass. Who else is it going to be at this time?” Hanks voice came through. 

Connor unlocked the door with a roll of his eyes. “Come in.” 

He heard the door close and Hank’s footsteps in the hall. 

“You know,” Connor began, still working on the wall as Hank appeared in the doorway of the study. “It’s frightfully conjectural of you to assume you would be the only person welcome in my house at a late hour.”

Hank leaned on the doorframe. “Am I wrong?”

Connor clicked his tongue. “On this occasion you aren’t, but I’m using it as an example.”

”You can pretend to have a social life as much as you want but neither of us are good at it and that’s why we’re friends.”

”And frankly I still wonder why we are, with the way you talk to me.” Connor finally turned away from the board to face him. 

“I talk to you like I talk to everyone.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “You just called me a jackass.”

”Exactly.” Hank said, moving into the room. “Which is why we’re friends.”

”And why I’m your _only_ friend.” Connor muttered. 

Hank successfully ignored him without a comment, looking over his mood wall. 

“Getting somewhere?”

Connor hummed in agreement. 

“After tonight, we’ll get some more stuff to put on here.” Hank touched at a photograph. Connor shrugged on his black jacket. “It’s close to ten. Set to go?”

 

  

They were going undercover on the lead Lauren gave them about the alleged red ice supplier by the bridge.

With budget cuts being made all over Detroit to pay for granting androids their rights, and new cases popping up like daisies, it usually meant that detectives were thrown more than one case at a time. Hank and Connor were lucky their cases were somewhat connected, but others in the Force had it really rough. 

Connor pulled a beanie on his head, effectively covering the LED on his temple.He looked to his left to catch Hank looking at him from the driver’s seat. Hank quickly looked away.

“What?” Connor asked.

“Nothing.” Hank mumbled. He looked back over. “You ready?”

Connor nodded. They got out of the car and started heading towards the bench. Hank took a seat, but Connor slowly paced.

“Isn’t this the place where you pulled a gun on me?”

Hank took a guilty look around. “Yeah it is.”

Hank remembered that day like it was yesterday. He remembered how close he came, to actually shooting Connor in the head. The truth was he would never bring himself to do it. How could he, no matter how much he claimed to hate him?

Connor forced a slight smile. “I wouldn’t recommend trying it now. I won’t come back this time.” He joked lightheartedly, trying to ease the tension.

Hank’s mouth stayed a grim line. Connor watched his mind tick.

“Connor, listen. If things go south tonight, just... be careful okay? You know how difficult it is getting parts for you.”

It was true. Since he was a prototype, he couldn’t pop into the nearest Cyberlife store and buy a new arm or leg. His parts weren’t readily available, they had to be made specifically.

“And you aren’t going to be able to come back once you take a hit, it doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“I just said that, Hank.”

“Yeah, but I _mean_ it.” Hank said, standing up.

Connor suddenly felt small.Hank looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

Connor looked to the left; a car pulling up to the side caught his attention.

“I think that’s our man.”

Hank looked back over his shoulder. He sighed. Connor couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or relieved at the conversation being interrupted. “Showtime.”

They walked over to the parked car and tapped on the window. The guy inside rolled down the window expectantly. 

Connor automatically looked over everything. The man had no LED, but there were no fingerprints on the steering wheel of the car. He scanned his internal temperature. Android. 

“We heard you’ve got some of the good stuff.” Connor said, relaxing his posture. 

“That depends on where you’ve heard it from.” The android said. 

“We get around.” Connor retorted. “You got it, or not?”

The android eyed them suspiciously. “Who’s grandpa?” He motioned to Hank.

Hank bit the inside of his mouth, not trusting the next words that would come out of his mouth. 

“He’s good. He’s wants some too.”

“Alright.” The android stepped out of the car and wandered over to his boot. He fished out a few packets and pressed one into the palm of his hand. 

Connor held up the red crystal shards in the see-through packet to examine them. 

“$40 for a packet.”

Hank snorted. The android didn’t take it lightly.

“Is there a problem with that price?”

Hank looked at Connor. Connor could only motion for him to play along.

“No. I don’t have a problem.” He said stiffly.

The android slapped a packet onto Hank’s chest. “Then that’ll be $40.”

Hank eyed Connor viciously, because he somehow always managed to get him to spend stupid amounts of money on stupid things for the sake of solving a case. With a roll of his eyes, he dug into his back pocket to get his wallet.

Connor took the opportunity to speak. “Is this legit? Where are you getting it from?”

“I make it myself.” The android said. “Don’t ever insult me by thinking anything I give to you isn’t.”

Connor took a mental note. “And do you get other people who sell on from you?”

“No. Why?” The android looked over at him. 

“Just a question.” Connor shrugged. He tried to look nonchalent as he did so, but the android eyed him a few times, suspicion evident in his stare.

As Hank pulled out a note from his wallet, his police badge dropped to the floor.

“You’re cops!” The android’s eyes widened. He turned and bolted, startling the duo into action. 

“Fuck!” Hank exclaimed, bending to pick the badge and rushing after the two androids. He pulled his gun out, panting behind them. 

Connor leapt over the wall the android had just disappeared behind. He wasn’t far behind him at all. He sprinted after him, tackling him to the ground. 

The android struggled under him. Connor attempted to turn him around to pin him, but the android was armed with a knife. He brought it up from the waitband of his jeans and slashed at Connor’s face. Luckily his reflexes moved him out of the way so it just nicked at his skin. Connor fell backwards, bringing his hand up to his face and it coming away tinted blue.

Connor quickly jumped back to his feet, but the android had gone. 

“Shit.” Connor said under his breath as Hank jogged over to him. 

“Where’d that asshole go?”

Connor sighed pointedly. “He got away.”

Hank’s face dropped when Connor turned to face him. “Your face.”

He touched at the wound on his cheekbone. “He was armed.”

“He cut you?” 

“It’s just a surface scratch. The surrounding skin should regenerate.”

Hank eyes narrowed. “I told you to be careful. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“Well what else was I supposed to do, let him get away because you couldn’t keep up enough to watch my back?” 

As soon as the words left him, he realised what he said. Hank silently stared, shocked. Connor gasped at himself, shaking his head. 

“Hank, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

Hank cut him off. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m just a god-damn incapable human, right?” He turned his back and started walking away. 

Connor rushed in front him. “N-No, you aren’t-”

“Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t mean it! It fucking came from somewhere, didn’t it?”

Connor tried to speak again, but Hank held out his hand to get him to stop talking, his pace still the same.

“Just... walk yourself home, Connor. And cool off.” He said, getting into his car. 

Connor stood stupidly, watching him drive away. 

 _What_ _the_ _fuck_ _did_ _he just do?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m moving to college guys so I’ve been slightly inconsistent rip me ahhh


	6. Absence of Blood, not Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:
> 
> Connor feels unwanted and insecure for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a hot minute. I apologize, college is kicking me up the ass. 
> 
>  
> 
> TW for mentions of domestic abuse.

 

The walk to the station the next morning was grim. 

Connor called Hank when he got home last night and left several voicemails, all that went understandably unanswered. Hank’s tone spoke back to him instead.

“Hi, this is Hank. Not here at the moment. You can leave a message if that’s what turns you on but don’t expect me to call back. Beep... whatever.”

He was hoping Hank would have calmed down a little overnight, so Connor could apologize properly and have it registered. 

The truth was, Connor felt horrible about what he said. He didn’t even know where it came from, he didn’t mean it at all. But something had been niggling through his system all day since the morning, and it had finally come out in the form of resentment towards Hank. It was uncharacteristic, and it wasn’t going to happen again. He could promise Hank that. 

When he got to the station however, he couldn’t apologize, because Hank wasn’t there. His desk chair was empty. 

A flood of thoughts rushed through Connor. Was he late? Hungover? Had he been drinking last night, because of _him_? 

That thought pained through Connor’s chest. Then, dread ploughed into his torso, shaking through his limbs. Hank was depressed. Connor had been on knees knelt beside him passed out before, where he had both a bottle and a gun in either hand, a click of trigger away from death’s bullet in roulette. 

There wasn’t room for any other thought,  or rational idea. He took off running right out the station, down the road to Hank’s. If he had done something... God, Connor would never be able to live with himself.

It look around 10 minutes to get there even while sprinting at the fastest speed he could go. Connor left the door and went straight for the window. 

“Hank?!” He shouted, looking in. The reflection of the glass showed him his LED was swirling red. “Hank, are you in there?”

The house looked empty. Connor rushed to the kitchen window. 

“Hank? Answer me, damn it!”

He hit a fist to the glass angrily, but didn’t break through. The inside looked to be in order, nothing out of place. 

When Connor thought he was on the brink of an anxiety attack, his phone rang in his pocket. He dug it out, breathless. 

“Hank?”

“...Sorry, is this Detective Connor?”

“Speaking.” Connor furrowed his brows. What if it was the emergency services, calling to tell him Hank had been admitted to the hospital?

“Hi, I’m Rebecca, Floyd Mills’ secretary for the Eden Club.”

Connor was tempted to just hang up. “Can I help you?” He asked, trying not to sound exasperated.

”Mr Mills has requested that you visit. He has some information regarding a case you came to him about.”

Connor didn’t give a fuck about the case right now, he needed to know Hank was safe.

“Now isn’t a good time.”

“It isn’t? Well. That’s fine anyway- your partner Detective Anderson is present. Mr Mills just thought both of you-”

“What?” Connor snapped.

“Your partner is already at the club.” Rebecca answered. 

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

 

It actually look 7 minutes to get there, Connor never thought his legs could move so fast. When he got inside the club, he saw Hank with his back turned to him, speaking with a male Traci. 

“Hank!”

He turned, mouth a thin line. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Connor breathed, relieved. 

Hank’s expression didn’t change. He turned back around to continue his conversation with the male Traci. 

Connor furrowed a brow until the android left. Hank still didn’t acknowledge his presence, and instead went to greet Floyd. 

“Morning, Detectives. I did a bit of digging on the name Wes Jean-Luc, because I was sure I’d heard the name before, and I found something interesting I thought you’d like to see.”

Floyd directed them both to his office, turning on his computer to access the security footage. With new laws, places like Eden Club had to have CCTV installed for the safety of both human and android lives. 

“This dates back to around two months ago.”

Hank and Connor watched Wes on the tape. He was communicating inaudibly with another customer, and if didn’t look like friendly conversation. It got heated, and he pushed at the other man’s shoulders before landing a punch. They brawled on the floor before being separated by security guards. 

“The footage goes on. And there’s more, this wasn’t his first or last. Long story short, he was blacklisted from the club two weeks ago.”

Connor brought a hand to his chin. “A week before his murder. It was also known he was taking red ice prior, which could explain his aggression. Interesting.”

”Think that’s interesting? Take a look at his models of choice.”

Floyd showed them the screen again, and they watched Wes take a stroll around the club, eyeing the male models and not giving the female Tracis a second glance.

”He’s gay?” Hank said. 

”That explains why we couldn’t get any information from the female Tracis. We weren’t interviewing the right models.” Connor explained, making Hank roll his eyes. 

“Now that we’ve stated the obvious, how about we do some actual police work?” Hank commented without a glance at Connor’s way. 

Connor kept his expression solemn and didn’t say anything, but allowed Floyd to lead him and Hank to the Male Traci’s dressing room. 

“You can go straight in, like last time.” Floyd waved at them and left back to his office. Connor turned back to Hank but he already started making his way into the dressing room. 

“Hank.” Connor touched at his arm to call to him. 

“Later, Connor. We’re working.”

In any other situation Connor would have praised his thought for professionalism, but it didn’t seem like that was his motive. It also felt like a stab to the chest.

He followed Hank in anyway. The male Tracis weren't anymore clothed than the female ones. They turned to look at them when they entered.

"Can I help you?" One of them came forward to ask.

Hank outstretched his arm in greeting. "I'm Lieutenant Anderson from the DPD. We're working on a case that involves the murder of a man called Wes Jean-Luc. Is there anything you can tell us that will help?"

The Traci looked at him. "Do you have a photograph?"

Hank turned to Connor. He stepped forward and lifted his hand to show the projection on his palm.

Another Traci with dark skin stepped in front. "Hey, I know him. He was a client of mine a few weeks back."

"How would you describe him?" Connor asked.

The android looked uncomfortable. "He liked it rough." 

"His character, not his sexual preferences." Hank grimaced.

"He was aggressive. Someone you wouldn't spend too much time around if you could help it."

Hank rubbed at his chin. “What was your last encounter like with him?”

The android retracted the skin on his arm, and Connor mirrored him to transmit the information. He felt his eyes flicker and he was looking down through the Traci’s eyes.

It was enough to make him blush blue down his neck. The situation was far from innocent. Wes was dominating; pushing, grabbing, controlling. 

“Got it.” Connor severed the connection, wishing that moment wasn’t necessary for the investigation, so he could permanently burn it out of his memory space. 

“Would you think anyone would have a particular motive to kill him?” Hank asked. 

”I’m not sure.” The Traci responded. “He regularly got into fights. If anything, I’d say it would be that.”

 "Well, thank you for your time." Hank said finally, and they both headed out towards to the exit. 

 

Hank walked towards his car, and Connor stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Or more specifically, what _Hank_ was going to do.  

"Well?" Hank said, rolling the window down to shout at Connor from across the street once he got in. "Are you waiting for me to run you over or are you planning on walking to the station?"

Connor never moved faster. 

The car ride was silent, not even the stereo was on, blasting away either smooth jazz or Knight Of The Black Death. Hank didn't speak either. 

"I'm sorry." Connor blurted out.

Hank was stoic, focusing his eyes on the road. It was as if Hank was the android and Connor was the human.

"I know you're really mad at me. I am too." Connor continued into the silence, scared that he wouldn't get another chance. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. It was awful of me, and I know I can't take back the words I said."

"You don't need to." Hank said suddenly, making Connor's head snap to the side. Hank didn't look his way. "If that's how you feel, you should request a new partner. Someone younger, more capable." 

The smoothness of Hank's voice as he spoke terrified Connor. 

"No!" Connor said quickly, making Hank raise his brows. He cleared his throat and tried again. "No, that isn't how I feel at all. Hank, I said something I didn't mean in an angry outburst. Lately, my emotions have become increasingly difficult to process; confusing at times. I can have multiple emotions simultaneously, feel some twice as intense, and new emotions are developing into my circuitry that I can't even comprehend. I'm not saying that that excuses my actions, but it sure as hell does make me feel guilty about them. Hank turned to glance at Connor for a moment before aligning his gaze to the road ahead. 

"Is that what's been up with you lately?"

Connor sighed irritably. "Yes."

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Connor scoffed. "Why don't you?"

Hank smiled. "Maybe now you'll think twice before you go probing into other people's business? Talking is a lot harder than it looks, ain't it?"

Connor silently agreed. 

"Look, Connor. Forget it. How many times have I said some dumb shit when I'm angry?"

"Hm. Lost count." Connor said jokingly. "But both of us should talk to each other more. Shall we agree to it?"

Hank looked hesitant. "I'm going to regret this..." he said, as he pulled up outside the station.

"Probably." Connor replied, hopping out the car, feeling his strained stress levels decline.

"Hey, Connor?" Hank called, following him into the station. "You should probably get checked out. That emotion shit doesn't sound good. Probably some sort of malfunction." he grinned.

Connor looked appalled. "Malfunction? Malfunction...?! I'll have you know I self-test regularly."

 

 

 

 "It's about time you two got in." Fowler bounced on them as soon as they entered. "We have someone waiting to speak to you."

"What? Who?" Hank quizzed.

"A Kelsie Longhart, ex-girlfriend of the second victim, here with her fiance. Here's his file you asked me to grab for you, be sure to give that a read before you go in. Interrogation room."

"Well this is an exciting development. People coming to us." Connor said, taking the file to scan.

"Wonder why. She probably has some information on him."

"It says here she filed a report against him over a year ago. Domestic violence."

"Interesting. Want to go in?" Hank offfered.

Connor scanned his hand and entered, Hank in tow.

A blonde woman was sat at the desk, clutching her purse in her lap. A man was sat next to her.

"Good afternoon. My name is Connor, and this is Lieutenant Anderson. What can we do for you?"

"Is it you who are investigating the murder of Gerard?” She asked, straightforward. 

Connor took a seat in front of them, but Hank decided to stand and gently pace. Connor quickly scanned the pair of them. 

Kelsie Longhart, 28, diagnosed anxiety.

Jim Kelling, 31, employed at Bellini Paints. 

“Yes.” He answered. “We’re looking into his case. We’re told you may have some information for us?”

Kelsie looked shifty. ”I don’t know how useful it will be, I- I don’t know who killed him or anything.” She placed her hand over her fiancé’s, her engagement ring glistening. Large stone, expensive. Well off. 

“Any information you provide will be useful to the investigation.” Connor assured.

“Well, I haven’t heard from him in a long time. He was abusive, I filed a report while I was still with him, and it prompted more violence, so I left him. After I met Jim, I heard Gerard wasn’t doing good. I know he wasn’t a great person, but I’m not heartless, and I thought it would give us both some closure if we talked things out. I decided to meet with him.”

”When was this meeting?” Connor questioned. 

“A few months back. It was a mistake. He was a mess, and saw I was doing well for myself. He tried asking for money, told me he still loved me, I felt very uncomfortable. He always had a bad gambling habit, and it looked like it got worse after I left.”

“And?”

”He said he couldn’t take being alone. He’d started with drugs, and random hook ups.”

”Android or human?” Connor questioned. “What was his opinion on androids?”

“Indifferent. He’d take either. Anyone.”

”Hold on a second. You said drugs?” Hank came towards the table, leaning down onto his hands. “What kind of drugs?”

”I’m not sure.” Kelsie shook her head. “I don’t think he ever said.”

”How did act when you refused to give him money?”

“Angry. Very angry. But we were in a public place, he didn’t try anything.”

Connor and Hank glanced at each other. 

"Is there anything else you can tell us?"

Kelsie shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

Connor stood and smoothed out his shirt. "Thank you, you've been a great help. If you remember anything else, please get in contact with us." 

He shook their hands and exited the room with Hank.

"You think it's Red Ice?" Hank asked, as they walked over to their desks.

"It would make the most sense, both in explaining his behavior towards Kelsie and with a link towards the first case."

"Wes was on Red Ice too, right?" Hank furrowed his brows, creating lines in his forehead.

"Yes. We can be sure about that. I would hate to go off intuition alone, but without blood analysis from Gerard's body, we can't be 100% sure."

"And that's pretty much out of the picture." Hank referenced the blood-less condition the bodies were in in the morgue. 

"Exactly. Although..." Connor trailed off. His eyes lit up suddenly. "We can test hair samples."

Hank looked confused, so Connor continued his explanation. 

"Blood samples do show us intoxication levels, but they are recent; within a few weeks. With hair samples, we can get information on a person's drug history going back months."

Hank smiled. "Well, lets get to it."

 

 

They drove down to the mortuary together. Hank showed the staff his authorisation and they opened up the shelves containing the victims.

Connor swept his gaze over them. Humans looked so peaceful when they were asleep. Only these particular humans were not asleep, they were dead. 

"If only the victims were androids. I could probe their memory for their last moments and we'd be able to see the killer."

"Would make the investigation a Hell of a lot easier, wouldn't it?" Hank agreed.

Connor plucked a hair from Gerard with his fingers. 

"Oh, Jesus. Are you gonna-"

Connor didn't give him time to complain, he popped the hair into his mouth. 

"Fucking gross, Connor! That honestly tops it." 

Connor gave it a minute before he removed it. "Yes. He was taking Red Ice. I've found traces of it in his hair follicle."

Connor quickly chescked Wes' too. Since Wes had a shaven head, he took eyebrow hairs instead. 

"I like androids. I like androids. I like androids." Hank whispered repeatedly to himself in a mantra.

Connor smiled at him. "They both are confirmed Red Ice users."

"So now we have a link between them?"

"It appears so. The killer is targeting drug users."

"Which means the next victim is going to be a druggie."

"Yes, assuming there will be another victim." Connor closed the drawers with the bodies on.

"Oh, I'm betting there is going to be." Hank said, and they started making their way up the stairs. 

 

As they got in the car, Connor made sure to put the stereo on. 

"Connor, look at me for a minute."

Connor turned to look at Hank in the driver's seat.

He motioned to his nose. "You're bleeding."

Shocked, Connor lifted his fingers to his nose and sure enough, they came away stained blue. 

"...What?" Connor said to himself, pulling down the sun guard to look in the mirror. 

"Jeez, don't bleed in my car, use some fucking tissues." Hank scolded him, but he sounded concerned. 

Connor mopped it up, but couldn't help the confused expression linger for the duration of the ride.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Hank said, as comforting as Hank could get. "Nosebleeds are common."

"Not for androids." Connor stated, and resumed his rigid position. Hank glanced over, barely masking his own worry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_"You'll know when you wake up. You'll bleed."_

 


End file.
